


Worth the Keep

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Category: Breakout Kings
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Character of Color, Communication, Dom/sub, Domestic, Interracial Relationship, Kinky Gen, M/M, POV Male Character, Pain Kink, Queer Gen, Rare Fandoms, Rare Pairing, Service Submission, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-12
Updated: 2011-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Ray's not the only one who needs to be caught.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Writing not-porn is a good way to make myself feel better, so fancy this, there is more Charlie/Ray and their emotional complicatedness. Vague timeline is vague. So is anyone yet convinced to write me this pairing?

Charlie stumbles, but Ray catches hold of him with a rushed, "Charlie."

He wonders if this is what it feels like for him, the tight chest, the breathlessness, the scared straight. That last part is probably all Ray, wondering if this is it, if it's a heart attack or just Charlie needin' to cool down a bit. Ray knows about the pills — can't not know when Charlie has a schedule with them, when Ray said, _"I need."_ and _"But we can't do this 'til you tell me … ."_

"I'm fi— _fine_ ," Charlie gasps, the last word broken up all wrong.

Ray shakes his head and reaches for the chair behind him, offering it up to Charlie so he can take a minute or ten. However long he needs. "No, you aren't—"

"I said—" Charlie's breath hitches like he still can't get enough of it, and he grips Ray's arm, squeezes a little too tightly, but Ray's not gonna complain. "What's your safeword?"

"What?"

Charlie glares this time, and Ray doesn't get where he's goin' with this.

"Atlas, you know that."

Charlie's fingers clench around Ray's bicep, dig in a little too hard. "You gonna use it?"

Oh, Christ, Ray thinks, and straightens up, refusing to give in to the pressure of Charlie's fingers when he's about to keel over. "I will if I have—"

"Are. You. Going. To use it?" Charlie asks, each word hard and clipped.

Ray narrows his eyes, doesn't let Charlie go when Charlie pushes against him, so he says, "Charlie," soft, hopin' maybe that'll get through. They can't do this if it puts Charlie's health at risk. It's not safe. It's not how this works.

"If you're not gonna use it," Charlie continues, and jerks on Ray's arm, gets him off-balance enough that his knee buckles, and if it weren't for the chair that Ray's still holdin', he'd be on his knees on the floor, "then get back down on your knees."

"Fuck! Atlas, Charlie, _Atlas_."

Charlie backs down and Ray goes to his knees anyway, looping his arms around Charlie's waist, keepin' him upright, lettin' Charlie lean on him with both hands on his shoulders.

"You son of a bitch, you know you can't—" Ray shakes his head. "What the hell are you thinkin', huh? I'm not tryin' to jeapordize—"

"Yeah, you are. You jeapordize me, the team, this whole operation every time you decide to go rogue—"

"—some things gotta be—"

"—and if you can't seem to understand that—"

"—handled my way—"

"—then I'll _make you understand_."

Ray shuts up, has to when his face is gettin' smothered in Charlie's shirt and Charlie's fingers are diggin' into the joints of his shoulders so hard that he thinks he can actually see sparks of pain. Ray leans into it for a sec, stupidly forgets that he called no go on this five minutes ago. He jerks away when his brain gets in gear and surges to his feet, picks up the chair and drops it down in front of Charlie so he'll get his ass in it.

"I said Atlas."

"Yeah." Charlie drops into the chair — finally — and Ray can't be pissed when Charlie looks that beaten down, that tired and pissed at himself, like the heart condition's his fault somehow. "I heard you."

Ray drops to his knees again, settles in the gap between Charlie's legs, makes Charlie look at him. "Do we need to go somewhere? To the doctor? Hospital? ER?"

" _No_." The word kinda hurts, the way Charlie says it like he'd rather die. Ray's not gonna let that happen, of course, but it stings. It's stupid. Just as stupid as Ray's temper when a con gets the best of him. Charlie scrubs a hand down his face and Ray catches that hand when it falls, holds onto it, exhales when Charlie squeezes his fingers. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

Ray squeezes Charlie's hand back, stares long and hard to make sure Charlie's not gonna keel over. Or worse. There's always worse.

"I'm sorry," Ray says, so soft he can barely hear himself say it. He means it, though. Can't not when Charlie looks like this, still sort of struggling for a clean breath, lookin' past Ray, maybe at the wall, but knowin' Charlie, he's probably not really lookin' at anything really.

After a while, when it looks like Charlie's caught his breath, when it feels like they're okay again, Ray asks, "You want me to get you somethin'? A drink? A sandwich?"

Charlie's mouth tightens, but then that eases and he sighs and nods. "Drink." He squeezes Ray's hand again, and it's as good an all clear as Ray's gonna get. "Glass of water."

"Yeah." Ray huffs out a laugh as he gets to his feet, still holdin' Charlie's hand. Won't let go until he has to. "From your fancy Brita filter."

"Gotta stay healthy."

"You're healthy," Ray says, more softly than he means to, but he can't help it. This is never gonna be one of those things that stop scarin' him.

"Water, Ray."

Ray sighs. "Yeah, yeah. Fridge ain't that far." The smile falls off his face, and he gets his fingers all tangled with Charlie's. It doesn't slot neat, but the point he's tryin' to make — that should be clear enough. "I'm not either."

Charlie draws his hand away — no big deal, really; Ray's not gonna take it personally, because he can't. Not his right or somethin'. But then, then Charlie fixes them, gets them back right, their hands fitting together like they should've if Ray'd taken a couple of seconds extra.

"I know," Charlie says. He smiles, then, easy, relaxed. Everything's gonna be okay tonight. "I have to keep you close."

And Ray can't say nothin' to that, so he nods, and does what Charlie asked him to do: gets a glass of water from the fancy Brita filter.


End file.
